Monday, December 26, 2005
Respect.
Of all the events that occurred these past few weeks,I think the one that happened this week was the most life-changing. My HKSS friends, especially the class 4C of 2004, ought to know. Mr Chan Kok Keong died last Monday of cancer. CKK, Chan Mali Chan, The old fat man, whatever euphemism you have called him, had finally left the building. Man, I can still remember his awful attempts at instilling some civic morality in us, and most of the lessons failed miserably.
How he tried to make the guys in my class run rounds at the field for reckless behaviour in class which involved a soccer ball and two ceiling fans.
How he tried his ineffective rhetoric on us, while Senthil and I sniggered at his lack of verbal sophistication.
How he tried to make everyone stay back in class for one whole week, when no one admitted to throwing soaked tissues through the window.And oh boy it failed.
How he claimed he could see us outside of class miles away, which was bullshit as he was busy eating in the canteen.
How he upset Jessie over her ear studs. Heh, that one I can remember. On the last day of school ever, how we searched his art room for traces of ciggarettes, ashtrays, lighters, and musty smell of Dunhill he was rumoured to smoke.
How he would make us the last, or the first, to go after recess, and just ignore the DM's instructions because he can.
How he would put his hand into his hip pocket and shaked it about while I come up with a reason why I didn't have a MC when I was absent for a week.(That was nerve-wreaking)
How his sarcasm at my failure to focus on my studies worked, resulting in the O Level certificate he handed to me being full with A2s and B3s.
How he was proud to have so many CCA leaders in their own right,in his form class.
God, I wished I could hear his stupid stories once more,for old time's sake. That swagger of his, talking to all the girls while conviently ignoring the guys. See him stroll down the class while guys were cursing under their breath. Hear him lose another argument with a bunch of kids four times younger than him. It ain't over till the fat man sings, and he finally did last week.
He was supposed to be 61 years old today.
How he tried to make the guys in my class run rounds at the field for reckless behaviour in class which involved a soccer ball and two ceiling fans.
How he tried his ineffective rhetoric on us, while Senthil and I sniggered at his lack of verbal sophistication.
How he tried to make everyone stay back in class for one whole week, when no one admitted to throwing soaked tissues through the window.And oh boy it failed.
How he claimed he could see us outside of class miles away, which was bullshit as he was busy eating in the canteen.
How he upset Jessie over her ear studs. Heh, that one I can remember. On the last day of school ever, how we searched his art room for traces of ciggarettes, ashtrays, lighters, and musty smell of Dunhill he was rumoured to smoke.
How he would make us the last, or the first, to go after recess, and just ignore the DM's instructions because he can.
How he would put his hand into his hip pocket and shaked it about while I come up with a reason why I didn't have a MC when I was absent for a week.(That was nerve-wreaking)
How his sarcasm at my failure to focus on my studies worked, resulting in the O Level certificate he handed to me being full with A2s and B3s.
How he was proud to have so many CCA leaders in their own right,in his form class.
God, I wished I could hear his stupid stories once more,for old time's sake. That swagger of his, talking to all the girls while conviently ignoring the guys. See him stroll down the class while guys were cursing under their breath. Hear him lose another argument with a bunch of kids four times younger than him. It ain't over till the fat man sings, and he finally did last week.
He was supposed to be 61 years old today.
